


Sticks and Stones

by zran



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: All the slurs, But He Gets Better, But still a band, Defintiely didn't upload this with the wrong chapter, It's different now haha, M/M, Not Famous, Please reread if you did and were confused, Promise, Roger is a bit of an ass at first, So much homophobic language, ish, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zran/pseuds/zran
Summary: (REUPLOAD)John has spent all of high school being bullied by Roger; but, it isn't until they're put in a music class band together that he gets a glimpse at why





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my newest work, called Sticks and Stones! I know Roger comes off as an absolute dick at the moment, but I promise he comes around and it doesn't last long! Let me know what you think; I'd love to hear your feedback!

John had always had a hard time at school; not because he wasn’t academic - far from it, actually; he had been moved up a grade at the beginning of high school to try and keep his mind engaged - but because he severely struggled in all departments concerning making friends, and not getting thrown into the dumpsters most mornings. 

The new semester was bittersweet for John. On one hand, it meant new classes, new teachers, and new assignments that he would enjoy working on. On the other hand, however, it meant needing to scout out which seat in the classroom would leave him the least noticeable by his classmates, and what route to take between classes that were the least likely to get him stuffed into a locker. 

So, when John walked into his music class on Monday morning and found the classroom empty - save for their teacher - he was overjoyed, making a point of slipping himself through the desks and into the back row, where he took the seat most secluded from everyone. He liked being early; it meant that at least if the others were running a bit late, they mightn’t have time to bother him before class started. It also gave him the opportunity to talk to the teachers about assignments to avoid having to stick around after class, and risk someone waiting by his locker after homeroom if he took too long. 

It wasn’t until just minutes before the late bell rang that the classroom started to fill up; most students took seats in the back until they were forced to begin sitting closer as the classroom filled. John kept his head down, writing down some lyrics for a song he’d been working on the night prior. 

“Alright, class; settle down.” Their teacher, Mr Pickering said loudly once it was officially time to start and the classroom were still largely unresponsive. “We’re going to start the semester with some ensemble work; I think we’ll do it by putting everyone’s names in some different cups and then picking one from each to form our ensembles. It’s random and we won’t be getting the same groups we always do, and we might actually get some new and cool sounds. What do we think?” He said enthusiastically, as if any of the students might actually respond with the same level of excitement as their teacher. “Alright, great!” he added, presumably to fill the silence. “I want everyone to write their own names on a piece of paper and place it into these cups.” He explained, setting out the four cups on the top of the piano. “Percussion, strings, brass and woodwind, and vocalists.” He added, tapping each cup as he spoke. Some students began slowly moving to grab their pens and notepads. One student in particular was rather enthusiastic as he flounced over to the piano to precociously pop his piece of paper in the ‘vocalist’ cup. John had stood up himself, just as the shorter boy was walking back to his seat. John had never minded the boy; he was flamboyant and out-there, and - truthfully - often took some of the heat when the word ‘fag’ was shouted across the classroom. As John walked past him to get to the piano, the pair accidentally bumped into one another, sending John travelling a few steps sideways. 

“I’m sorry.” John said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Oh, you’re quite alright, dear. My mother says my head is in the clouds.” He chuckled, giving John a gentle pat on the shoulder as he made a point of going around him to get back to his seat. John could barely give a fake smile as he made his way to the piano. 

“Betcha that was some secret code to plan the butt-fucking their going to do later!” The voice was high and thrill, and sent shivers down John’s spine - it always did. Roger was the school’s pretty boy - the top dog and the ladies’ man; and more than that, he was a primary executor of John’s daily torments. He didn’t enjoy having to share a music room - John adored music, and the presence of Roger only made him far too tense even begin to appreciate the class. 

“That’s enough, Roger.” Mr Pickering said quickly, shutting him down sternly, leaving Roger and his friends to simply snicker amongst themselves as John returned to his seat. “Okay; is that everyone?” He asked, sweeping his eyes quickly across the classroom before nodding and standing behind the four cups. “Alright. Let’s start with something a little funky! Brass and woodwind - Annabeth; another one - Michael; percussion - Jason; vocalist - lets do two - Amy and Victoria.” He read through, pulling out papers as he went. There was some minimal chatter, none of the students having much to say about the group formulated. “You guys can go off and start picking some songs if you want; next group! Let’s go… strings - Brian; vocalist - Freddie; percussion - Roger… and let’s do another strings - John.” He read out, moving the papers to the side of him. John hadn’t been listening too much, until he’d heard him name, flicking his eyes up to see the boy he’d bumped into, Freddie, smiling back at him where he sat. He didn’t return the grin, just looked around the room, to see Roger and his friends whispering between themselves. “The groups aren’t negotiable - let’s go!” He added, seeing as none of the four were moving. Freddie was quick to stand up, Roger groaning as he grabbed his drumsticks. John quickly stood up once he realised he was going to get reprimanded if he didn’t and began walking towards one of the practice rooms. 

“Watch out, guys; you don’t wanna catch the homo!” One of Roger and Brian’s friends called out as the quartet walked away, Brian and Roger laughing to each other. John could feel the tension within himself as he stepped into the practice room, looking around at the other boys, hoping he could just make it through the ensemble assignment alive. 

“So, what kind of songs were you guys thinking? Maybe something old school - Bowie, or Hendrix?” Freddie said enthusiastically, bounding around the room lavishly. 

“Maybe something a little less queer?” Brian queried, sitting on one of the stools as Roger settled behind the drumkit. John stood quietly by the door, watching the rest of the members and hoping that if he remained silent, he could go largely unnoticed. 

“We’re doing ‘Whole Lotta Love’ by Led Zeppelin.” Roger stated, looking down at the kit dismissively. 

“I’m sorry? I didn’t realise you were in charge… quite big of you two to pick a song with a guitar and drum solo in it.” Freddie said calmly. “That song will do nothing to showcase my voice.” He added, finally turning around to glance at John. “What do you think, dear? Bowie or Led Zeppelin?” He questioned, causing John’s gaze to shoot up from the floor. All eyes were now on him, and he could feel himself clamming up. 

“He’s probably more concerned with ABBA or Elton John.” Roger chuckled. “He’s probably too gay for real rock music.” Roger chuckled, raking his eyes over John in a way that had the younger man frozen in place and numb all over. “Well? Spit it out, ya fairy!” He snapped playfully, although it still had John jumping where he stood, only causing Roger to laugh more. 

“I… well, umm - I think Led Zeppelin would be good; maybe even something by The Who, perhaps…” he mumbled, barely audible to anyone but himself. “But, I really don’t mind; I’m happy to play anything.” 

“The Who? Yeah, alright.” Roger smirked a little. “I like the way you think.” He chuckled, but with no real care in his voice. He turned to Brian and mumbled something that John couldn’t quite make out, but the fact that it had been thirty seconds since Roger last called him a ‘faggot’ or ‘poof’ made him feel like this assignment might not be the death of him. 

They brainstormed through song ideas for the rest of class; it wasn’t necessarily friendly, and Freddie and John weren’t exempt from the occasional homosexual slur, but it was calm enough that John felt marginally calmer than he usually did in a class, let alone one that featured Roger. There were even a few times that John had cracked a smile at something someone had said; so as he was grabbing his bookbag, he hadn’t at all expected to exit the classroom and find himself face to face with Roger and his gang of elites. 

“Where are you going, fag?” Roger smirked, looking up at John, considering the significant height difference. John swallowed thickly and looked at him without so much as a breath escaping his lips. “I’m talking to you! You retarded or something?” He chuckled, trying to ‘gain his attention’, with a forceful push of his shoulder. John couldn’t help but feel this largely counteracted the hour and a half they’d just spent discussing a group love of The Who and old-school rock. 

“I umm… study period.” John mumbled, trying to rip his eyes aware from Roger’s piercing blue ones, and failing miserably - too frozen in fear. 

“Ahh… so you have nowhere to be, then?” Roger smirked, eyeing his more silent and much larger friends. One of them lurched forward and grabbed John’s bookbag, making a point of tossing it so that the contents spilled all over the courtyard. Another of the boys reaching for John’s shirt, pulling in forward - likely in an attempt to pull him forward; but instead ripping his shirt in the process. The group just laughed as they stepped away from him a little. “I mean, not quite what we were going for, but good enough.” Roger laughed as he and his friends started to back away. John stood motionless for a short while before turning towards where his books and pencils were strewn, now being rained on. He let out a shaky sigh, trying desperately not to cry as he moved to pick them up, his ripped shirt - and the rest of him - now also being rained on. 

“Would you like a hand, darling?” The voice was calm and familiar; John turned to see Freddie already crouching down beside him to assist in picking up John’s scattered belongings. 

“Th-thank you.” John whispered, trying to mask the tears that were threatening to make themselves known. 

“Oh, dear; what happened to you?” Freddie mumbled, reaching over to grab at John’s tattered shirt. 

“Oh… uhh - Roger, and…” John mumbled, trailing off when it appeared he didn’t really need to explain further. 

“Ughh; don’t worry about him, dear. Boys like that fear what they aren’t comfortable enough to own up to.” He said nonchalantly, leaving John with a quirked brow and confusion. 

“What do you mean by that?” John asked quietly, finally gathering the last of his things from the ground and shoving them messily into his bookbag. 

“I think you’ll find, those boys are so very awful to us because they’re afraid to let themselves be the absolute fairies they really are.” Freddie chuckled, standing as John did so too. John couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

“I think you’ll find, you couldn’t be more wrong.” He muttered, eyeing Freddie with an air of disbelief. “Those guys aren’t gay - far from it.” John added, beginning to walk away - only to be followed closely by Freddie. 

“Say what you want, my dear; but I have an excellent gaydar.” He grinned widely, receiving a pitiful chuckle from John. “Now, let’s get you into a different shirt; if you were unaware, that one is ripped.” Freddie grinned, nudging John gently. John glanced over at Freddie, ready to rebut and query the shorter man’s friendliness; but instead, choose simply to nod. 

“Thank you, Freddie.” John whispered, just as Freddie slung his arm around the younger man. 

“No need to thank me, darling. That’s what friends are for.” He grinned widely, exposing a wide smile as they carried on down the walkway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to make sure I didn't upload the wrong chapter this time haha. Let me know what you think and if there is anything you wanna see in the story :)

John reached his study period a little late, having stopped at Freddie’s locker to find it full of lavish outfits - none of which were regulation uniform. John sat quietly, pulling out his notebook and trying to pretend that he wasn’t wearing a lime green polo. 

“Wow.” He heard the shrilled chuckle move closer to him until it was practically in his ear. John glanced over slightly to see Roger in the seat beside him. “And I thought you couldn’t get any gayer.” Roger smirked, pulling at John’s top. 

“I… I umm - it’s not mine. I borrowed it from Freddie.” John stated meekly, as if any words he could possibly speak would make his current situation any better. He heard a hearty chuckle from Roger and made a point of looking around the study hall for potential witnesses. 

“Is he your boyfriend or something?” He chuckled, leaning nonchalantly across the table so he could stare John down. John swallowed thickly, unable to meet the older man’s gaze. 

“No… I barely know him; he let me borrow his shirt… your friend ripped mine.” John whispered, trying to sound as far from accusatory as possible. He heard another chuckle from Roger, and felt his stomach twist a little. He thought about the fact that to Roger this was all some big joke, and he’d likely never thought about how what he did to John affected him. 

“He didn’t even mean to rip your shirt… we were just going to throw you in the dumpster behind the gym… sorry.” Roger huffed out a laugh. John couldn’t quite work out in what world such an apology was warranted, given the context of Roger’s intended actions. “I’ll buy you a new one… pink’s your colour, yeah? Although this green is divine!” He jibed, mocking him as he gave John a slight nudge, only causing the younger man to jolt in panic. “Oh, calm down, you sissy!” Roger laughed, receiving a few shared laughs from other students in the room. John let out a shaky sigh and tried to maintain concentration on his notebook; he could feel Roger’s gaze over his shoulder, following his hand as he wrote. If John had been a more confident person, he would have slammed shut his book and tried to do a runner. “Are those lyrics?” Roger asked brashly, after a short while. John was a little frozen by the sudden loud voice in his ear, but it didn’t take him long to nod in response. “Do you write music too?” Roger questioned, his voice coming down just a fraction from its usually harsh tone. 

“Sometimes… mostly just bass and guitar.” John muttered, still hunched over his book like protecting his face depended on it. 

“That’s cool… it actually looks kinda good.” Roger chuckled, as if he was largely surprised. John swallowed and gave a shallow nod. 

“Thanks.” He added, unsure whether their short moment of calm banter had allowed him the ability to come down from his panicked static. “You’re a great drummer…” John whispered, hoping for some kind of peace treaty - or at least to limit the amount of times he got called a faggot during his study period. He watched as Roger’s grinned - genuinely, and turned to the younger man. 

“Thank you.” Roger said softly. “You’re alright.” He returned, but the look on his face suggested he was joking around. That look that Roger wore always worried John - it was more often than not followed by someone grabbing him by his collar to throw him somewhere undesirable. 

“Thanks.” John whispered, looking back at his notebook before scribbling something down quickly. 

“Could we do your song for ensemble? It’d be pretty cool to try something original - no one ever does that.” Roger queried, moving a little closer to John to read the words over his shoulder. John bit his lip gently, uncomfortable by how close Roger was, and by how he could strike at any minute. 

“What about The Who?” John asked, looking over his shoulder at Roger. 

“I’m sure we could do both. Brian and I can obviously handle it; Freddie has a wicked voice - so, I’m sure he’d be fine…” Roger muttered. “And you… you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” He said softly, as if it was a secret. 

“Do- do you really think the song is good enough? I don’t want to embarrass us…” John mumbled, so unguarded in that moment - like he’d forgotten who he was talking to. As John waited for Roger’s a reply - a sweet and genuine on his face - he’d never seen him look so vulnerable; not because he was sad or hurting, but because he looked like a normal guy. He was the kind of guy John could have a conversation with, which was not something he’d ever considered possible. Such calm, however, was short-lived; as it was only moments of waiting for Roger’s reply before he heard a noisy barrage of Roger’s friends storming into the classroom. 

“Rog - come quick. We put that new foreign kid in his locker and he started crying.” One of them laughed. John shrunk back in on himself, hoping they were all far too occupied with the other boy to just leave John alone for once. Roger was quick to stand up - almost as if John wasn’t there - and head towards the hallway. John was just breathing a sigh of relief when one of Roger’s friends made a point of pushing his head, jerking it forwards and towards the table. Luckily, the shove hadn’t been too forceful that his face hit the table - which had happened on multiple occasions; but the order of events left him sitting there, more confused by all that had taken place than annoyed at the consistent torment. 

~~~~~~~~

Once the bell went, John was quick to gather his things and stand. With his notebook in hand and book bag slung over his shoulder, John made his way hastily to his locker, just wanting to get his lunch and go hide in some corner of the cafeteria. As he opened it, he watched as a small piece of paper floated out and onto the ground. He made a point of looking around, just to see if it was some sort of practical joke, it which he’d be jumped… or powdered with anthrax. John opened the note slowly and read it through, still very aware of what was going on around him - just in case. 

**Meet me by the fountain in the cafeteria x** John bit his lip hard as he studied the note; he had never been one for making friends, but he prayed that whatever was going on, wasn’t going to result in him ending up in the fountain. He stuffed the note into his bag and made his way swiftly to the cafeteria; he wasn’t too sure whether he should get his lunch first, or just go to the fountain. He settled on going straight there, as, just in case it was a prank, he’d much prefer not to end up with his lunch in the fountain with him. John’s worries were quickly dissipated once he reached the fountain and was greeted by a cheery and impatient looking Freddie. 

“There you are! Come sit, dear.” Freddie grinned, gesturing him over to a nearby table. John was a bit overwhelmed by Freddie’s intense hospitality - but he wasn’t complaining. He began following him until he realised he didn’t have any lunch. 

“I just have to get my lunch.” John spoke softly, causing Freddie to turn around and give him a quick ‘hmm’. “I haven’t got my lunch yet.” John spoke again, just as softly. Freddie nodded quickly as he sat down. 

“Alright - go on; I’ll wait here for you.” Freddie said sweetly, grinning calmly at the younger man. John nodded and moved quickly to the lunch tables, not wanting to be away from his only friend, now that he had managed to acquire him. He waited in the line up, grabbing pieces of his lunch and occasionally looking back at Freddie, who appeared to be chatting up a storm with the table beside him. John envied Freddie’s ability to be completely comfortable in himself; he knew who he was and wasn’t afraid to be just that. He hardly ever got picked on the way John did, and John figured it was mostly because his confidence was intimidating - even to Roger and Brian. 

“Hey, faggot!” The words hit him a second before the apple did his arm. He turned to see Roger’s friends all lined up behind him, one of them making a point of throwing parts of their lunch his way. John turned back around, trying to embody a little bit of Freddie and just ignore them - but, he wasn’t blessed with Freddie’s nonchalance. The same guy came up behind him, pushing him forward a little bit so that John stumbled as his apple fell off his tray and under the lunch table. John let out a gentle sigh, wishing he’d just stayed with Freddie - where he felt largely unaffected by the tormenting. The boy simply laughed and pushed him forward again, sending more of his lunch spilling onto the floor. 

“I’m starving, and if you get us kicked out before I get to eat, you’ll be dead; just cut it out.” Roger called from a bit further back in the line. The guy that had been picked on John just let out a hefty sigh and stepped back. John swallowed quickly and walked through the rest of the line, most of his lunch on the floor now anyway. Once he was out of the line, he beelined for Freddie, only stopping once he was at the table; Freddie gave him a slightly confused look, but didn’t say much more, considering he was still gas-bagging with the table beside them. While Freddie was chatting away, John began picking at the roll in front of him, which had been pretty much the only thing that hadn’t ended up on the floor. Only a few minutes later, he felt a presence arrive beside him, he glanced over to see Roger; John was so panicked that it took him a moment to notice that the older boy was placing a banana and a little bowl of carrots and peas on John’s tray. John looked up at him a little confused, thinking maybe this was when the anthrax was going to strike. 

“It’s healthy; I’m not going to eat it.” Roger chuckled. “Sorry about Mike; he’s a bit of a meathead.” He added, giving John a quick grin before walking away. John stared down at his - now fuller - tray, rather confused. 

“I’m sorry - what the hell was that?” Freddie questioned, smirking widely. John looked up at him and shook his head. 

“His friend knocked all my lunch off it’s tray; he was just giving me the stuff he didn’t want.” John mumbled, unpeeling the banana. 

“Or maybe he wanted to see you eat that banana.” Freddie grinned, his eyebrows wiggling unnecessarily. 

“Why? So they can make more gay jokes… great.” John muttered, rolling his eyes as he took a bite, not daring to turn back to Roger and his friends in case they were in fact making fun of the phallic object in his hand. 

“Perhaps… or maybe because he wants you to eat his banana.” Freddie chuckled, causing John’s face to go bright red. 

“Stop.” He said quickly, suddenly so uncomfortable that he had to put the banana down. “Roger isn’t gay… and even if he were - which he’s not - I am for certain, the last person on the entire planet that he would want to sleep with.” John whispered. Freddie just laughed and gave him a waving hand. 

“Whatever you say, dear…” He smirked, adjusting his seating to eat his lunch. John could feel his cheeks still burning in embarrassment as he ate his lunch, just hoping he could hide from everyone for the rest of the day. 

~~~~~~~~~~

After home room that day, John was quick to get his things out of his locker and make a speedy exit, despite Freddie suggesting they hang out. He did like Freddie - a lot - but the older man was just a bit too forward for him sometimes. He wasn’t blessed with Freddie’s ability to avoid confrontation, and being around Freddie didn’t exactly mean he could lay low. So, he settled on walking home alone - very quickly. John lived close enough that catching the bus wasn’t necessary, but it was still long enough of a walk that there was plenty of time for being stopped and harassed by whoever might be walking the same way. He was about halfway home when he heard the dreaded sound of footsteps coming up behind him; luckily, however, it did only sound like one set, so at least he wouldn’t be pummeled by a whole hoard. John felt his body tense up, hoping whatever was coming wasn’t too bad that he’d have to try and explain it to his mother again. 

“Darling! Slow down!” The voice was shrill and out of breath, and John quickly allowed himself to relax as he slowed down and Freddie caught up with him. “Not everyone was blessed with long legs and a gorgeous bum - you’ll have to cut me some slack.” He chuckled, putting a hand on John’s shoulder. John gave him a weak grin as he continued to walk. “You ran off before I could tell you my news!” Freddie grinned widely; John glanced over and quirked a brow, as if to question Freddie. “I got us invited to Brian’s party.” He smirked. “Wasn’t really that hard; just asked, and waited until the slurs stopped - and then they said yes.” Freddie chuckled, nudging John slightly, as if that was supposed to lighten the mood. 

“I’m not going to a party, Freddie - especially not one of their parties.” John said definitively. Freddie’s brow furrowed and he moved to stand before John, so the younger man had to stop walking. 

“Why on earth not? It’s going to be fantastic! Have you not heard stories about how great their parties are?” Freddie questioned excitedly, gripping John’s shoulder. John’s face contorted into something a little disgusted. 

“No, I have not; in case you didn’t notice - I don’t have any friends.” John muttered harshly. Freddie moved back a little, his face becoming a little sad. 

“Are we not friends?” Freddie said softly, looking John in the eyes the best he could when the younger man would not meet his gaze. 

“Of course we are! That’s not what I meant.” John snapped. “I just don’t want to go to some dumb party where I’ll probably get locked in a freezer.” John grumbled angrily before pushing past Freddie and storming off down the street, leaving Freddie standing in his place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little slow, but I've already written the next one (which is far juicier), so that'll be up real soon. I'm also going to do my best to have new chapters of "Insufferable" and "Bring Me Back Down" up within the next few days! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! :)

The rest of the week had been nothing more than ordinary for John - aside from actually having someone to sit with at lunchtime. He was no less bullied than before; in fact, his song writing - despite how good the four of them sounded - was now ammunition for Roger and Brian when they teased him.

It was the Monday morning after the party that _everyone_ had been talking about; the party that John had detested attending. He didn’t really want to come to school and hear all about who and hooked up with who, and how drunk everyone had ended up; which is why when Freddie came bounding up to him, he was less than ecstatic. 

“Morning!” The smaller man sung; John simply entertained him with a smile and nod as they continued walking. “How was your weekend?” He added, ever so spritely. John let out a gentle sigh as he reached his locker. 

“It was good; I worked on some more stuff for our song - I just don’t think it’s strong enough yet.” John muttered, head in his locker as he grabbed his books and put them in his bag. 

“I think it’s plenty strong enough, dear. We sound fantastic - almost good enough to play a real gig.” Freddie chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. John just rolled his eyes as he closed his locker and began on his way to music - Freddie closely tailing. 

“Not quite, Freddie; but I appreciate your optimism.” John chuckled lowly, slipping into his usual spot at the back as Freddie sat beside him. John didn’t so much mind Freddie having changed seats to be next to him, but he did have concern for the way it drew a little more attention to them as a conglomerate. It was at this point that John realised that Freddie hadn’t uttered a single word regarding the party from Saturday night; and whilst John had been sure he didn’t want to hear about it, he was confused why it hadn’t been the first thing spilling from Freddie’s gob. “How was the party?” John muttered, glancing over at him as the class started to fill up. 

“Yeah, it was fine.” Freddie said shortly, turning his attention to one of the girls sitting in front of him. He began chatting to her about the class, and current assignments, as if John wasn’t even there. John’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched him, confused; thankfully, it didn’t take long for the class to fill up and for Mr Pickering to begin the class. He went through the typical happenings of the morning, before sending everyone into their ensembles. John shuffled quickly into the backroom, Freddie seemingly having finished shutting him out in such an awkward display. As they sat and got themselves comfortable, John could tell the atmosphere of the room was different; he’d assumed it had something to do with the weekend, but considering Freddie wasn’t saying boo, he didn’t again question it. 

“I- umm… I made a couple of changes on the weekend; I think it’ll make it better.” John said quietly, glancing over at Brian and Roger to gauge their reaction. Roger was looking over at him, listening until the room fell to a quiet lull. 

“Yeah? Alright; get on with it, you poof.” Roger muttered, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers as Brian chuckled. John bit his lip and nodded a little before starting to explain his new ideas. Despite no one but Freddie saying much, the song did sound much better, and they were playing through it like a proper band by the end of class. The quartet were so engrossed in what they were doing that they had forgotten to report back out to class before the end of period bell went, and therefore scrambled quickly for their belongings once it was time for their next class. John knew he had to sit through study period with Roger, and he just hoped it was going to go as smoothly as last week - aside from the bout of whiplash. As he moved to his usual seat, he noticed Roger already sitting in the space beside where he usually sat. John was wary as he sat down, glancing nervously at Roger, who actually appeared to be studying. Roger glanced over at him and gave him a weak smile. 

“Hey…” Roger mumbled, watching as John slowly sat down. 

“Hi.” John practically squeaked, his voice clearly unstable and his body unsure. 

“I was wondering if you could help me with my math homework…” Roger mumbled. “I’m totally failing at the moment, and… well, you’re clearly a boy genius.” The older boy chuckled slightly, as if he was actually nervous. John bit his lip and nodded, shuffling to adjust himself so he was a bit more comfortable. 

“S-sure… what can I help you with?” John muttered, leaning slightly into where Roger’s - mostly unused - homework book sat. 

“Everything.” Roger chuckled, pulling out their most recent worksheet to show John. John scanned his eyes over it - it was the kind of work John was doing at the end of elementary; which made absolutely no sense to John, as despite how nasty Roger was to him, he knew the older man was intelligent. 

“Roger… you’re super smart - I’m not sure how you’re getting stuck.” John muttered, not wanting his words to sound accusatory or like he was calling him stupid. Roger glanced at him with a slight blush and hesitated before he spoke. 

“I just don’t like listening. Collins is a real bitch; be fucked if I’m actually going to pay attention.” Roger chuckled, leaning back as if to dissolve himself of the work. 

“I’m not doing it for you…” John muttered, pushing the worksheet and book back towards Roger. “I’ll help you understand it, but I’m not doing your homework.” John said as sternly as he could muster. Roger’s face scrunched up a little as he sat back up. 

“Why not? It’s not like it’s even hard for you - you could do that work in your sleep.” Roger rebutted, getting a little louder than John had hoped for. 

“You’re being too loud - just calm down.” John mumbled, unsure what part of him had decided it was a good idea to backchat Roger. 

“Fuck off.” Roger muttered, standing up forcefully. “I don’t want to sleep with you, you freak!” Roger said loudly, the rest of the room beginning to laugh or whisper at the scene. John felt himself sinking into his chair; he’d never even kissed a boy, let alone accosted a straight one in the middle of a study period, and now the entire room was staring and laughing at him. Roger kicked at his chair as he began to walk away, making a point of smacking John’s head sideways as he did so. John let out a quiet sigh, trying to hide the fact that he was about to cry. He got picked on and pushed and punched just about everyday, so he couldn’t work out why this time it had bothered him so much. Nevertheless, he found himself standing on shaky legs and exiting the classroom. John mindlessly shuffled his way down the hallway until he reached the art room. He opened the door slowly, making a moment of eye contact with the art teacher before smiling courteously and slipping into the class. He beelined for where he knew Freddie sat, and slipped into the empty seat beside him, a few sniffles escaping.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Freddie questioned, eyes remaining on the easel before him. John just shook his head, enough for Freddie to see it in his peripheral vision. “Well, clearly something is the matter…” He whispered, still not looking over at John. 

“Can I just stay in here?” John whispered, fiddling with his hands on his lap. 

“Course, dear… you can be my muse.” Freddie grinned, glancing over at John, finally. His face fell a little when he saw the stray tears running down the younger man’s face. “Oh, darling. C’mere…” Freddie whispered, adjusting his direction to pull John into a hug. John pulled away quickly, shaking his head vigorously. 

“Don’t! I don’t want people to think…” John mumbled through teary eyes and a snuffly nose. He trailed off as he saw the disapproval on Freddie’s face. 

“Don’t want them to think what? That you’re gay?” Freddie queried, eyeing him in a way that made John curl further in on himself. “Wouldn’t that be a shame? I hate to break it to you, John; but you’re as gay as a daffodil!” Freddie said rather loudly, causing people to stop their painting and turn to them. 

“Stop it…” John whispered, trying his best to look Freddie in the eyes. 

“Why? There’s nothing you can do it about it, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you! At least have the balls to be proud about it. You’re gay - big woop!” Freddie snapped, turning back to his easel quickly. John sat quietly, hoping that everyone’s eyes would quickly shift away from them. He’d known Freddie to be over-dramatic, but he thought the older man would have known that John would have wanted nothing to do with it. He remained motionless in his seat until the bell rang; he waited for Freddie to stand up, and followed him out a little sheepishly. Freddie appeared to slow down a little, waiting until John beside him to return to walking normally; they walked in silence to the lunch tables, placing their things down. John sat as Freddie began towards the line. “Not hungry?” He queried, his hand once hovering against the younger man’s back. It wasn’t perhaps that John was vehemently against being gay - he knew exactly who he was - it was more so the looks from the other kids everytime Freddie laid a hand far too gentle on him. John shook his head a little, turning to look up at Freddie. 

“I’m just going to wait until everyone is sitting down; I don’t really feel like sacrificing my lunch to the floor today.” John whispered, resulting in a small chuckle from Freddie, who nodded as he walked away. John sat quietly, drawing his fingers over where other students had carved their initials, or crude pictures into the table. After a few moments, he glanced around, just to check that Freddie was okay - not that he really had to worry - to see him and Brian chatting quietly in the line up. John allowed himself to smile a little, glad to see that some good had come out of their music assignment. He made a point of searching for Roger; aside from the occasional physics class, if Brian was somewhere, so was Roger - so John found it quite odd that the smaller man was nowhere to be seen. 

It didn’t take long for such minimal concerns to dissipate when Freddie returned with two trays, placing one before John. 

“Freddie; you didn’t have to…” John said softly, sitting up a little straighter. Freddie was quick to wave his slim hand before the younger man. 

“Oh, shush; I don’t want to hear it.” He chuckled, taking his seat also. John grinned a little as he began to eat his lunch, looking over at Freddie who - he had appropriately deduced - was a fantastic friend to have.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the newest chapter! Things get a bit heated in this one, so let me know what you think :)

When lunch finished, John made his way slowly to his chemistry class. He was so ahead of the rest of the class that even the teacher didn’t mind his attendance, so he often dawdled nicely across campus to the far-away building. He decided to cut through the gym today, just because it was a little miserable outside, and he didn’t want to be soaked before getting to class. As he walked through the halls, he was stopped by the sound of loud banging; while he wasn’t one to gravitate towards commotion, there was a part of him that figured if it was him getting pummeled, he’d want someone to stop and help. When he reached the locker rooms - expecting to see some poor first year pinned to a locker - he was wildly surprised to see Roger, slamming his hands and fists into the lockers in clear frustration. Despite all of his better judgement, John took a slow step forward, just in the doorway - which he figured was an easy enough escape if it turned sour. He observed for a few moments as Roger angrily kicked over chairs and hit the lockers. 

“Roger…” He finally whispered, watching as the older man glanced over. “Are you okay?” He added quietly, taking a few steps forward when it appeared that Roger was a little calmer. “Do you wanna talk about it?” John questioned, now just a couple of metres away from Roger. 

It was like lightning that Roger moved; swiftly, John was pushed against the locker - Roger’s hand between his chest and throat. 

“You can fuck right off, you little fairy. You’re not doing anyone any favours by fluttering around here. We’d all be better off if you were-” Roger was cut off by John’s hand reaching up to grip his own. 

“You’re about to say something incredibly hurtful that you don’t really mean.” John said quickly, his words calm and collected; Roger stopped and looked at John a little taken aback and perhaps guilty. “I know that because I’ve watched you be genuinely nice to me… you’re not the prick you want everything to think you are. But, I understand that there’s clearly something going on in your life that makes you need to project your own insecurities onto me, and use me as the human equivalent of a punching bag. So, go ahead; call me a faggot, punch me in the face, tell me to kill myself - get out whatever it is you need to in order to feel better about yourself.” John said, very diplomatically and without a hint of malice. Before it appeared John could even understand that he had very much stood up to Roger for the first time, he felt the older man’s lips crash into his. John closed his eyes, as he felt Roger’s hand loosen on his collarbone and slide gently to simply reside on John’s chest. The kiss was nothing more than a steady peck, and it didn’t last very long before Roger pulled away. John’s eyes were wide as he looked at the older man. It was only seconds of calm before Roger had pushed John roughly back into the locker. 

“Tell anyone about this and you’re dead.” He whispered as he pushed the pair of them back together, more rough and sensually. This time, John was quick to push Roger off of him. 

“What are you doing? Are you kidding me?” John muttered, eyeing Roger up and down. The older man looked far more passive than John had ever seen him. “Two whole years of calling me a faggot, and a fairy, and a poof; only to be fucking gay yourself!” John lamented, throwing his hands in the air. 

“I am not gay!” Roger shot back, shoving John against the locker. John huffed out a groan from the sheer force and tried not to let himself cry. John took a few minutes to gather himself again before he looked at Roger, both of the boys just staring each other down for a moment before John finally spoke up 

“Are you sure about that?” John questioned, picking up his bookbag and marching towards the door and back on route to his chemistry class. 

…………………

John had been wildly frazzled for the rest of the day, but had been lucky enough to not bump into Roger again. The next morning, however, he wasn’t so lucky. He was standing at his locker waiting for Freddie when the older man approached him - sans friends. 

“What do you want?” John whispered, unable to look at the older man in the eye. 

“I just… I just wanted to check that you hadn’t said anything to anyone.” Roger mumbled. John glanced up at him, somewhat in a state of disbelief. Despite the bruises on his back, he wasn’t even being given an apology. 

“I didn’t tell anyone.” John said harshly, turning and pretending to need something from his locker. 

“What about Freddie?” Roger muttered, standing close enough to John that his anxieties were practically radiating on to John. 

“I said; I didn’t tell anyone.” John repeated, turning around and glaring at Roger as strongly as he could muster. “Can you please get away from me?” John said rather loudly, causing a few people to turn. John could see that he’d embarrassed Roger, and it was clear that such didn’t occur very often. The older man had seen red, and before John could even reconsider what he’d said, he had been pushed up against his locker with a vice like grip on either arm. Nearby students had now either dispersed to their classes, or gathered to watch. John looked around and then glanced at Roger, noticing that a few of Roger’s friends had gathered around to “assist” in whatever Roger had intended. “You know what; you want to beat me up?” John questioned, trying to sound confident. “Go on!” He snapped, now yelling as if there was a fire unleashed within him, despite the tears that had begun to run down his face. It was at this point that Roger had taken a step back, so that Brian and one of their larger friends could hold John off the ground properly. “It’s not going to change anything. I’m still going to be nerdy. Still going to be gay, still going to be the one you want to pick on.” John continued, anger seeping from every part of him. “Beating me up isn’t going to make _anyone_ less gay!” He yelled, teary eyes falling straight onto where Roger was standing before him; he had never seen the older man look so small and unsure. “But, if you truly think you can beat the _faggot_ out of me… go ahead - at least you’ll make my mother happy!” John cried, aware he probably looked insane, but unsure how else he was supposed to make them see how he really felt. 

“Stop.” Roger said quickly. “Put him down - put him down, right now.” He mumbled, before walking off quickly. Brian and the other boy holding John exchanged unsure looks for a few moments before the uncomfortable silence was broken. 

“He said put him down, Brian.” Freddie spoke confidently, standing very close and eyeing Brian with a look John couldn’t quite place. Brian was quick to place John on the ground before following after Roger, leaving the rest of Roger’s friends to awkwardly disperse. Freddie silently floated over to John and wrapped his arms around him; this time, John didn’t so much as flinch, simply leaning into Freddie as he sobbed mercilessly. “It’s okay… you’re okay.” Freddie whispered. “Come to the art room; no one will be in there - we can hide out for the day.” He grinned, rubbing John’s back before picking up the younger boys bag and beginning to walk down the hall. 

“I- I have English…” John whispered, his voice unstable as he allowed Freddie to push him along. 

“I think Ms Mitchell will understand… you probably have the highest grades in the class anyway.” Freddie chuckled sweetly as he opened the art room door and ushered John inside. “Can I tell you something? It might make you feel better.” Freddie queried as the two of them took a seat around where Freddie usually sat in class. John nodded, running his hand over his face to try and rid it of some tears. “Brian… he’s gay.” Freddie grinned slightly. “Imagine that - my gaydar was right.” He chuckled, causing John to chuckle slightly through tears also. 

“How did you confirm that? Or are you just so sure your gaydar is correct?” John questioned, his tone a little sassier than his sombre demeanour suggested. Freddie smiled a little, glad to see the younger man’s bite was there somewhere. 

“I’m quite certain… we hooked up at his party.” Freddie chuckled, adjusting himself so one leg was slung over the other. 

“You did what?” John spluttered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he grinned, exasperated. Freddie smirked a little at the smile on the younger man’s face. 

“Well, you expressed so much disdain for the whole idea of even attending a party that I figured you wouldn’t want to know anything about it.” Freddie explained. John rolled his eyes a little. 

“Well, I definitely did!” He chuckled, causing Freddie to do the same. There was a moment of silence before John spoke up again. “Hooked up like… you had sex?” He queried, being so personally inexperienced in such a department that he was honestly rather intrigued. 

“Oh god, darling - no.” Freddie chuckled. “I don’t think Brian could handle me just yet… he didn’t even have a safe word.” He smirked, causing John’s eyes to widen a little before the room fell silent again. This silence was far longer, but it was John who spoke up again. 

“Roger kissed me yesterday…” John whispered, nervous as he looked up towards Freddie to see his eyes wide and his smile big. 

“I knew it! Two for two - Am I good or what?” Freddie chuckled before seeing the way that John was not smiling. “Is that bad?” He queried, eyeing John a little confused. John sat and thought for a moment, before looking at Freddie a bit defeated. 

“I don’t know… I’m just confused. I don’t… you know, like him or anything. How could I? He’s awful to me… but I can’t help but feel this need to… god, I don’t know.” John huffed frustratedly. “I just feel like someone should help him… even if he is an absolute wanker.” John mumbled. “When I found him, he was banging up the lockers near the gym - his hands were all bruised and bloody, and I could tell he’d been crying.” John whispered, looking at his hands. 

“It’s not the easiest thing to come to terms with… you’d know.” Freddie said softly, an understanding look on his face. “Maybe it is worth reminding him he’s not alone - that people go through it every day. Perhaps I should say something to Brian…” Freddie muttered, as if the last part was to himself. 

“No!” John said loudly. “You can’t do that… I told Roger I wouldn’t tell anyone - I wasn’t even supposed to tell you!” John clamoured, his eyes pleading with Freddie not to say anything. “Please, Fred.” John whispered. Freddie gave him a sad smile and nodded. 

“Okay, dear. I won’t tell Brian - I’ll make like it never happened.” He grinned. John gave him a small nod. 

“Thank you, Freddie.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to upload, I've updated this and Insufferable if you're following along with that one also. I tried to make up for the considerable hiatus by making it a super long chapter, so let me know what you think.

John and Freddie had successfully hid in the art room until it was time for lunch. They both ventured out with their bags over their shoulders; once they reached the cafeteria, Freddie turned towards John. 

“I’m just going to speak to Brian for a second, did you want to go sit down and I’ll get your tray?” Freddie asked, a hand on the small of John’s back. John nodded, moving swiftly to where they usually sat. He could see from his seat where Freddie and Brian were standing by the line, just talking quietly. With his new-found knowledge, he could easily notice the way that Brian and Freddie looked and smiled at each other; he found it kind of adorable, despite how much Brian did scare him. While busy watching, he didn’t notice Mike and a few of Roger’s other friends gather around him until they were practically on top of him. 

“Hold him down.” One of them chuckled, as several hands held his limbs against the table. Before John could even react - not that he’d ever be the one to fight back - he felt a piercing cold travelling down his back as a cup of ice was tipped down his school polo. It was at this same time that he became drenched in several cartons of milk that were clearly not being drank by the clan of Roger’s friends. Before John could so much as ask them to stop, he had been released, and the group dispersed amongst the cafeteria as to not get caught. John glanced around at the hundreds of eyes staring him down, and tried desperately not to burst into tears. The younger man stood and made his way quickly to the bathroom where he began running his soaked skin under the tap as he cried. Soon after, the door opened and a small figure stepped into the area with him. 

“John?” The all too familiar voice queried. John just groaned as he sunk down into his hands.

“Please, Roger. Just leave me alone.” John begged, tears started to run down his milk-stained cheeks. 

“I just came in to see if you were okay” Roger said quietly, taking a few more steps towards John. 

“Do I look like I’m okay?” John snapped, turning towards Roger, his lip quivering. “You don’t know what it’s like to be picked on every single day and not once fight back… because trust me, I want to. Do you know how often I want to hit you back?” John said loudly, moving towards Roger. “Do you realise how miserable you make me? Then, you have the audacity to fucking kiss me… make me feel bad for you because you’re confused and sad, only to have your friends torment me. You’re a horrible person, Roger; you deserve everything you have coming.” John yelled, as Roger placed a careful hand on John’s shoulder. 

“You’re saying something you don’t mean. I know that because you’re an amazing guy… I’ve never seen you think bad about _anyone_.” Roger whispered. John could see he was mimicking exactly what John had done to Roger in the locker rooms yesterday, but suddenly, he was far less mad. “You’re so great. John… you’re a better person than I’ll ever be; and I know that because… well, because I like you.” Roger whispered, a small smile on his face. John swallowed thickly as he looked at how Roger held him; John knew how vulnerable he was in that moment, but he could also see how vulnerable Roger was making himself, and it made him feel a little less nauseous. “Can I… can I kiss you again?” Roger said softly, his smile widening. John’s brows furrowed slightly and he shook his head as best he could as Roger’s hand snuck up to the side of his neck. 

“Roger… I don’t like you back. I could never like you like that…” John whispered, trying to take a step back, but Roger’s grip was like a vice. 

“Why?” Roger whispered, the hurt evident in his face. 

“Maybe because you’re awful to me; why on earth would I like you, Roger?” John mumbled, reaching up to remove Roger’s hand from his neck. Roger’s eyes were glued to the ground. 

“I don’t know…” Roger mumbled. “I thought maybe… I don’t know.” He muttered, quickly turning to leave, leaving John standing there, still drenched. He knew he didn’t have to, but John felt so unnervingly guilty. 

After lunch, John snuck quietly into the cafeteria to grab his bag before heading back to his locker. He opened the door and saw the uniform - clearly just from the lost property - as well as a small note, scrawled in less than desirable handwriting. 

**I’m sorry that I’ve never treated you like you deserve to be treated. I’d really like the chance to try again - meet me at the bus stop after school today? -R**

John read the note about a thousand times before shoving it into his damp pocket and grabbing the spare uniform. After heading the bathroom to change and then to class, the rest of the day was largely uneventful; it usually happened that once some monumentous instance torture had been placed upon John, other students avoided him like the plague for the remainder of the day. Regardless of that however, John was absolutely terrified; he couldn’t even fathom actually meeting with Roger. He’d seen Freddie for mere moments right before end-of-day home room, but he didn’t mention anything about meeting up with Roger that afternoon.

Despite his better judgement, there John stood at the bus stop come 4 o’clock, his hands clasped tight in front of him and his foot tapping relentlessly. After a while, he checked his watch; 4:18. John bit his lip and picked up his backpack, deciding that if this was all some ploy to beat him to a pulp, he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. 

“Hey!” The voice called, sounding out of breath. John turned to see Roger running towards him. “Sorry; I had to talk my way out of a detention.” Roger chuckled, as he came to a standstill. “You ready?” He queried, smiling at John; John shot him a look of confusion, but nodded a little. 

“What are we doing?” John asked, beginning to walk as Roger did. 

“I don’t know.” Roger shrugged, the same small smile still on his face. “I thought we could just hang out.” He grinned, nudging John playfully. “Could we go to your place or something?” Roger questioned; John bit his lips and walked in thought for a few moments. 

“I guess so…” John whispered, continuing to walk in silence. As they walked, John quickly realised Roger was a real ball of energy; he walked in bounds and his arms swung madly beside him - muchly different from John’s fast-paced and unassuming stride. Roger had tried to make small bouts of conversation, clearly not one for silences, but John was so focused on keeping his wits about him - in order to not be pummeled in some surprise attack - that he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Once they reached his house, John walked quickly up the stairs to the front door. 

“Woah… this isn’t a house - this is like a mansion!” Roger exclaimed with genuine wonderment. “Are you some mob boss’ son or something? In that case, I’m sorry I was ever mean to you.” Roger chuckled; John turned to him with slightly furrowed brows. 

“I would have thought you were sorry, regardless.” John mumbled, turning back once he saw the look of guilt on Roger’s face. He quickly unlocked the door, pushing it open and walking in, holding it behind him for Roger to enter. If Roger had been in awe of the outside of John’s house, he was even more so of the inside. 

“This is insane.” Roger whispered, just as John’s mother appeared from through a large archway. 

“Hi, dear; how was sch-” She stopped herself as she caught sight of Roger, a wider smile creeping onto her face. “John; why didn’t you tell me you were bringing a friend over?” She queried, smiling widely at Roger. John couldn’t help but internally roll his eyes at his mother’s use of the word “friend”, considering they were anything but. 

“Is that okay?” Roger mumbled, seemingly intimidated by the large house and John’s mother’s presence. John’s mother was quick to perk up even more. 

“Oh; of course, dear! It’s just not very often that John brings friends home… I don’t think he ever has, in fact.” She chuckled slightly, causing John’s face to go a little red. 

“We’re going to go upstairs.” John whispered, starting to walk up them; before Roger could follow along, he was stopped. 

“What’s your name dear?” John’s mother asked, smiling sweetly at the young man. 

“Roger… Roger Taylor, ma’am. You have a lovely home.” He said quietly, still stealing glances at the decor. John stood quietly at the top of the stairs, feeling so unbelievably awkward about the whole idea of his mother being so smitten about him bringing home his bully. 

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Roger? John’s father is home from a business trip this evening and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.” She grinned. “We’re always a bit worried about whether John actually has friends.” She joked, but John had gone bright red. 

“Mum; can we please just go upstairs?” John pleaded, eyeing Roger down with such seriousness. His mother chuckled and waved them off and she went back to the doorway. John went quickly up to his room, Roger close behind. 

“Your mum is so lovely.” Roger grinned as he stepped in John’s bedroom. “Even your bedroom is crazy… this is like the size of my house.” Roger said softly, placing his bag on the ground. 

“Thanks?” John questioned, looking at Roger apprehensively; Roger returned it with an earnest smile, sitting on the edge of John’s bed. 

“What did you want to do?” Roger questioned, smiling sweetly at John as he put his things away. John looked at him blankly for a few moments, as if he’d completely disregarded what he’d just asked. 

“How are you so confident?” John questioned, staring at his bully with furrowed brows. 

“What?” Roger asked, a bit confused by John’s odd response. 

“How are you so confident?” John repeated. “How do you walk into the house of someone you barely know and act as if you’re best mates?” He added, receiving just a chuckle and a shrug from Roger. “I’m serious.” John continued, moving to sit beside Roger on the bed - but not too close, for his own safety. “You have so many friends, and everyone likes you.” He muttered. 

“Do you like me?” Roger grinned widely, glancing over at the younger boy. 

“No.” John said quickly; he watched as Roger’s face deflated, and he thought back to Roger’s note in his locker. “I’m undecided.” He corrected, glancing over at Roger, their eyes locking on one another for a moment too long. John was quick to rip his eyes away, pretending to be focused on smoothing out his bed spread. 

“Do you really never bring friends over?” Roger questioned, John’s eyes flicking up for a moment to shake his head before looking away once again. “What about Freddie?” He queried. 

“Oh, sure. Bring the gayest person in the world to meet my parents - you’re a genius.” John muttered, his tongue a little sharp for the casual conversation they’d been having. 

“What’s wrong with Freddie being gay… are you not gay?” Roger chuckled, and John couldn’t help but let out a small groan. 

“Yeah… but Freddie’s different. Freddie’s like… gay-gay. Freddie’s the kind of gay that I can’t hide from my parents.” John muttered, not sure he even made much sense to himself. Before Roger could even respond, John’s head flicked up with fevre, looking Roger right in the eyes. “You just said what’s wrong with being gay… what’s wrong with being gay, Roger?” John questioned, smirking a little. Roger looked at him with wider eyes, as if caught off guard. 

“I said, what’s wrong with Freddie being gay; it’s different.” Roger muttered, now the one unable to maintain eye contact. 

“Roger… there’s nothing wrong with who you are.” John mumbled; for once, looking at the older boy with a heart hurting for someone other than himself. 

“If there was nothing with it, why is it a reason to get picked on and beaten up… you’d know better than anyone.” Roger muttered, his voice sharp with clear hurt. 

“Do you really think your friends would beat you up?” John asked genuinely, considering how close-knit the band of thugs were. 

“I’m surprised you think they wouldn’t.” Roger said shortly and genuinely, eyeing John as if he would know better than anyone; John simply shrugged, a helpless smile on his face. “I can’t understand why you’re so about being open or whatever… you literally get beaten up for being open.” Roger muttered, a small chuckle escaping his lips. 

“I’d be picked on regardless… at least I’m being true to myself.” John mumbled, his fingers tracing the delicate patterns of his bed spread. He looked over and noticed Roger mindlessly doing the same thing; John reached over and took Roger’s hand in his, being careful not to give Roger the wrong idea. “It’s scary, Roger… it’s always going to be scary. Until the day comes that the rest of the world comes to their senses, you are going to wake up every day and be afraid because you’ve chosen to be who you really are. But take it from me… it feels infinitely better to be hated for being who you are than loved for who you’re not.” John whispered; there were a few beats of silence before Roger’s abruptly stood up, grabbing his bag. 

“I have to go… thank your mum for inviting me to stay. I’m- I’m sorry.” Roger mumbled nervously, before rushing out of John’s bedroom and house. John sat on his bed, staring at where Roger had swiftly exited. He glanced down at where the older boy had just been to see a small book left, presumably from Roger’s backpack. He sighed, assuming Roger was already long gone on his way home, and simply picked it up to place it in his own bag. Upon grasping it, he noticed the scribble within it was anything but school work - which was not surprising, considering how little work he’d seen Roger do. Against all of his better judgement he flicked to a random page, nosey eyes falling on the nearly illegible cursive. 

Monday, 12th March  
I’m going to sit next to John in study period today. I’m going to see if he wants to go across the courtyard for lunch. If he says yes, I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him that I like him. I think he’ll be okay with it - he’s super nice. I think it’ll go well. If I tell John and it goes okay, maybe I can tell Brian… or my mum. We’ll see what happens at lunch.

I went to sit with John today, but Mark and Brian were already in my study period waiting. I was going to ask them to wait outside, but John had already moved to a different table. I know John doesn’t like me; but I think if we were able to talk a little more that things might be a bit different. I might try asking him tomorrow. 

John read the words over and over, anxiety settling nicely in his stomach. He quickly snapped the book shut, but made a point of not putting it back in his bag to be returned.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter of this one - sorry it took a while, things have been really busy with school! This chapter gets a a little sad and sappy and is a bit of an inspirational/emotional moment for the boys, but I promise it'll perk back up soon :)
> 
> I'm going to try and get updates up for Insufferable and Bring Me Back Down in the next couple of weeks, so if you've liked those, go and chuck a comment about what you wanna see because I'm definitely struggling for inspiration at the moment. 
> 
> Anyway, thank as always for reading and I really hope you enjoy!

The next morning, when John arrived at school, he made a point of searching for Roger in the halls. The dirty blonde, slightly messy hair was nowhere to be found, and John couldn’t help but blame himself. He dejectedly headed for his math class, knowing he wouldn’t find Roger in there; he kept his head down and his hand gripped firmly around his backpack, knowing - not that it was a good thing - that he’d brought Roger’s diary just in case. He did his work quietly, taking notes and answering the problems - there were a few occasions where he’d put his hand up to answer the teacher's question and got teased accordingly, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. When the bell went to signal the end of the period, John was quick to gather his things and head off to one of his study periods - he was very fortunate in that he took many advanced classes - or those intended for higher year levels - and subsequently got to miss out on his more boring classes in exchange for more study time. He sat down and pulled out his geometry homework, having not had time to get in done last night because Roger was over - and because he was too busy stressing about Roger after he had left. As he pulled out his workbook, the little leather bound book - that at this point, felt wildly naughty - slipped out of his bag. He was quick to pick it up and hold it firmly in his grasp. John glanced around, noticing that the study hall was near empty, save a few unassuming students who were actually studying. Against his better judgement, he found himself opening to one of the first pages.

_October 16th  
I accidentally tripped the new kid on the way to lunch today - I was gonna apologise, but everyone started laughing. _

John remembered that; it was his first day in the new school - almost a year ago now. He’d been doing extension classes at his other school for a few months before transferring to the senior college. He’d remembered being quite a bit smaller - and definitely looked much younger - than everyone else. But he’d made it half of the way through the day unharmed, and he’d felt pretty good - until he’d very quickly because the centre of attention in the worst way. 

_Mike called him faggot. I should have told him to leave him alone, but I didn’t. I remember Brian saying something about him being a lot younger than everyone else and he looked really scared. I wish I’d said something, or introduced myself. He seemed really nice - he even said sorry to me after I tripped him._

John remembered looking up at Roger as everyone laughed, and despite the embarrassment, his young - and hormonal - brain could only observe how attractive the older boy was. John had only just come to terms with the idea of liking boys; another boy at his old high school had explained to him that he was probably gay and John had taken it upon himself to find a few books in the library that he could secretly read. At first, they had all mentioned it as a disease and John had genuinely considered telling his mum to she could take him to the hospital before he dropped dead, but through some more investigate research, John had found a few pieces of literature that had painted a more genuine picture. 

_I thought he was pretty cute too. But I think I need to stop that. Dad read in the paper that one of the men in the next town got arrested because he got caught doing things with another man. I’ve thought about the things they might have been caught doing, even though I definitely shouldn’t have. I don’t know that I could ever do those things with someone, but it doesn’t make me mad or gross me out._

John pressed the notebook tight against his chest; he knew he was reading Roger’s darkest, inner-most thoughts - and he shouldn’t have been - but he already felt like he understood Roger a little better. Not so much to say that he was forgiven for treating John like dirt, but John was a little less mad about it. He looked around to check there was still no one paying attention to him, before he pulled the book from his body and continued reading. 

_I told Mike I’d had sex with a girl the other day. He was talking about some party he went to and I didn’t want to seem weird, but I don’t like the idea of doing anything with a girl either. Is that weird? I asked Brian the other night if he’s ever done anything and he said he’d not yet kissed a girl, which makes me feel a little bit better. But, Brian cares about school and he’s a bit boring, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t bothered to get with anyone. I’m sure he could. Brian is attractive - in a friend kind of way! Or, at least I think so. Maybe he’s just attractive in general. But I wouldn’t do anything with Brian. I wouldn’t do anything with any guy!!! _

John couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He found it a little funny that Roger talked such a big game - he’d even heard him do it - yet he was truly a bit of a ‘little bitch’ as Freddie had coined him the other day. He felt bad laughing at the things Roger never intended anyone to read, but he figured somewhere in his brain that the year of torment made it okay. He flicked a couple pages later, a little too engrossed in what he was reading to be looking around. 

_November 7th_  
I think I like John. I’ve barely even spoken to him, but we did our solo performances in music today. It was weird, I remember feeling… proud of him. Which seems so dumb. Because, it’s not like we’re… together? We’re not even really mates. But, it was like I wanted to be able to be proud of him, and tell everyone else how proud of him I was  
“Look how talented by boyfriend is.”   
That’s literally insane, Roger. Maybe if you weren’t so nasty to him all the time he might actually talk to you. I wish he would - maybe I should try inviting him to sit with us at lunch. 

Roger had tried; John remembered him asking, but he had assumed it was some ploy to make fun of him and he’d instead opted to stay in study hall to eat his lunch. 

John was so busy reading that he hadn’t noticed Mike come in - he wondered if the guy ever actually attended classes, because he certainly wasn’t doing well enough in school to be skipping this many lessons.

“What you doing, fag - writing in your diary?” He teased. Before John even looked up, the small notebook was ripped from his hands. He looked up to see Mike towering over, flipping through the book that looked even tinier in his mammoth hands. 

“February 20th.” He read, mocking John with a feminine voice. “I think I take back what I said about not wanting to do anything with a guy - I heard Freddie and Melanie talking in class about all of that, and I think… I think I’d like it. Or at least want to try.” He read, eyes and smirk widening as he read on. “Oh my god.” He chuckled, holding it high enough that John’s jumping was frivolous 

“Mike - please, don’t.” John muttered a little desperately as he tried to reach for the little book. He didn’t notice that Roger had caught up to his friend, looking at the pair with slight confusion. As much as John was panicked about the contents of the book, he was glad to see that Roger had decided to come to school after all. 

“What are you doing?” Roger questioned, his voice a little softer than John would have thought, given the circumstances. 

“Mate, look at this.” Mike chuckled, bringing to book down to show Roger. John tried to lunge forward and snatch it away, only to be aggressively shoved back by Mike. 

“Where’d you get that?” Roger questioned, eyes wide as he stared down at it. 

“It’s John’s!” He laughed, flicking through it a bit. “Faggot keeps a journal - who thought he could have gotten any gayer.” Mike teased, nudging John back harshly as he tried once again to get the book. 

“That’s not J-” Roger began quickly, words coming from his mouth without much thought. John could see this, and was quick to but in. 

“That’s not any of your business - it’s mine and I want it back.” John snapped, as confidently as his teary eyes could portray. John looked up at Roger, it seeming that the room around them went silent. He could see the grateful look on Roger’s face, and it made it almost seem worth it as Mike shoved the book into his chest, causing John to stumble back a little. 

“Read it out - go on.” Mike smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the younger, scrawny man. 

“What?” John and Roger both said softly, glancing at the mountain of a boy. 

“I wanna hear you read it - you wanna be all faggy, then own up to it.” Mike chuckled, continuing to stare John down. 

“I’m not… I’m not reading it.” John whispered, running his fingers over the leather bind, teeth making a similar motion over his bottom lip. Mike took a quick step closer to John, gripping the back of his shirt tightly. 

“I said read it, you Poofter.” Mike snapped. John glanced over at Roger, who was visibly grimacing. John let out a shaky breath and nodded, being ‘graciously’ released by Mike. Silence fell over the room as John opened to a random page, taking a deep breath. 

“I wanna tell-” He stopped, immediately realising he couldn’t say his own name. Why couldn’t he at least pick a page that doesn’t mention him? “I wanna tell…” Against all his better judgement, he said the name that his brain wouldn’t let him not say. “I wanna tell Roger that I like him.” John muttered, biting his lip hard as he looked up to the older man, who was staring at him beet red and near tears. 

“Oh my god.” Mike chuckled, his brash voice cutting through the still energy in the air. “This is gold - where’s Brian?” He continued, looking around for the third of their terrible trio.

“Probably with Freddie.” John muttered under his breath, immediately regretting doing so. 

“What?” Roger said softly, looking at him confused. John was quick to shake his head. 

“Nothing - I said nothing.” 

“Keep reading.” Mike spurred, giving his shoulder a not-so-gentle shove. 

“No.” John whispered, now actually making eye contact with Mike. 

“Do it!” Mike yelled, causing any eyes that weren’t already on them, to now be. John looked around as the crowd began to grow, and he could feel himself going as red as Roger. 

“Can you just leave me alone?” John said, a little louder than he’d intended as he pushed past the pair and out the door, the book still firmly in his hand. He kept walking quickly down the hall, unsure where to go, but too stressed to stop. It wasn’t until he reached the end of the corridor and found a small inlet where the fire exit was, that he snuck into there and stopped, breathing a little heavy as tears stung his eyes. He still had the book clutched tightly against his chest, fingers pressed so tight they were stark white. He leant himself against the wall as he felt his escalated nerves slowly start to come down. He heard the squeak of shoes on the linoleum, and prayed to every deity above that it wasn’t Mike chasing him down. He kept his eyes down, hoping he could potentially just avoid being seen. It wasn’t until the sparkly trainers came into his view that he glanced up to be met with Roger’s panicked and slightly wet eyes. Roger was quick to gently grip the younger boy’s shoulders as he stepped closer to him. 

“Are you okay?” Roger said softly, his voice hushed and caring. John just stared at the older man, so conflicted and unsure that he couldn’t form words if his life depended on it - and considering he was face-to-face with Roger, maybe it did. “It’s alright - it’s fine. It wasn’t even that many people.” Roger whispered, clearly trying to soothe John by the way that his hands travelled slightly on John’s upper arms. “No one even goes to study hall!” Roger added, more loud and abrasive, that John couldn’t help but laugh at Roger’s intensity. John let out a soft sigh as he tipped his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes gently. “C’mon - let’s get out of here.” Roger whispered, running his hand down from John’s forearm to his hand, pulling on him as he opened the fire exit. John’s eyes were wide as he was pulled away from the school grounds, the little leather book still in his free hand. 

“Wait, no - we’ll get in so much trouble.” John muttered, his feet however, still following Roger. Roger let out a soft, almost pitied chuckle. 

“Oh, that’s cute.” Roger grinned, continuing to drag John away from the building. John decided it was better not to ask questions, but he was still wildly tentative about being taken somewhere by Roger that was a) secluded, b) without any witnesses and c) during school hours when he could most definitely get in trouble for ditching class. They reached a quiet, and completely empty park with a small lake in the corner off it. Roger quickly sat on a log, waiting for John to sit beside. After a few moments the older man gestured with his head for John to sit. 

“Is this the part where you kill me?” John whispered, the smallest of smirks on his face, but considerable fear still sitting in his belly. Roger let out a loud chuckle as he shook his head. 

“You’re being paranoid - just sit.” Roger smirked, continuing to gesture for the younger man. John let out a reluctant sigh as he sat beside Roger on the rather small log. John waited worriedly for the torment that never came, and he allowed a comfortable silence to fall over the pair. They both stayed quiet and still, watching the little lake wave in the gentle wind. Neither of them made a sound as a small bird perched on the log beside them, the two boys just observing quietly. It wasn’t until a few minutes after the bird had made its way back into the surrounding shrubbery that Roger dared to commence conversation again. 

“How much of it did you read?” He asked quietly, almost like he was asking a question he didn’t want the answer to - which was likely the case. 

“Umm, just a bit; but, it’s all-” John began, eyes cast on the dirt beneath him before Roger butt in. 

“It’s a lot.” Roger confirmed, not needing to hear John say the words himself. “I never… I never thought anyone would see it. It’s just something for myself - something for me when I get…” Roger trailed off, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“I know.” John whispered, moving to place a careful hand on Roger’s knee. “It’s okay.” He added. John glanced over to his other hand, the book still bound tightly within his fingers, as if bound by other means than grip. “Are you mad at me?” John mumbled, glancing over to Roger, who’s eyes were quick to widen. 

“Why would I be mad at you?” Roger asked, brows furrowed with concern as he turned a little towards John. 

“For reading your diary.” John whispered; Roger was quick to shake his head, eyes flicking occasionally to where John’s hand was still on his knee. 

“Not really mad… more embarrassed than anything.” He admitted, shaking his head as if to expel the shame. 

“You really don’t have to be.” John chuckled, squeezing Roger’s leg in an attempt to comfort it, before recoiling it back into his own lap. He ran his hands over the book, wondering whether he should just hand it back to Roger. It was now something he’d fought so strongly to protect - and got ridiculed for - that giving it back made him unnecessarily nervous. 

“Are you mad?” Roger’s voice was small, and the question seemed so out of place that it had John snapping out of his own thoughts to properly turn towards Roger. 

“What? Why would I be mad?” John questioned, unable to stop himself from letting out a small chuckle.

“That I… I wrote about you in my diary. You know, like that…” Roger whispered, looking down at his hands that were picking nervously at one another. John’s gentle chuckle only intensified. 

“It’s okay.” He grinned, looking at Roger with what might have been the most genuine smile he’d ever had in the older boy’s presence. “I didn’t read anything too incriminating.” John grinned, receiving a small chuckle from Roger. 

“It gets pretty intense.” Roger smirked, reaching over to remove the book from John’s hands. “I wouldn’t keep reading if I were you.” Roger whispered, with a cheeky smile. John just chuckled, releasing the book from his hands with less panic than he thought. 

“Intense… about me?” John asked, a similar cheeky smile on his face. He watched Roger’s cheeks go a little pink as shifted where he sat. 

“Yeah… about everything, I guess.” Roger mumbled, chuckling uncomfortably. There was a short moment of silence, Roger aimlessly flicking through the pages of the book in his hand. “Thank you for that.” Roger whispered, glancing sideways at John. 

“For what?” John queried, leaning forward a little to look Roger in the eye properly. 

“I wanna say for taking the fall for the whole diary thing…” Roger began, causing John to crack a small smile. “But, I think I mean… thank you for everything.” Roger mumbled, turning his eyes to the ground, as if he couldn’t even look the younger man in the eye. John’s smile simply widened and he allowed his hand to move back to Roger’s leg, his fingers in a tight and comforting grip. John watched as Roger’s own hand - after placing the book beside him - moved to sit atop John’s. John could feel something brewing in his belly - not the same kind of feeling he usually got around Roger - it was nervous, but not scared; it was more like a rush or a thrill, and it almost felt like something that John didn’t want to go away. He did worry about the fact that Roger wouldn’t even glancing at him, but the way the older boy ran his thumb carefully over John’s hand helped to soothe him a little. They stayed like that for a fair while, listening to the birds and watching the trees shift in the slight breeze. It reached a point in which John felt completely comfortable - something he didn’t think was in his wheelhouse when it came to Roger; the longer he sat, the more he considered coming to like something like this. John had almost become completely at peace right there, when Roger turned slightly to him, their eyes meeting for a moment before Roger’s leaned in, his free hand moving quickly to cup John’s cheek. 

“No.” John squeaked, pulling back slightly, but still never breaking eye contact. Roger cast his eyes away quickly, lifting John’s hand from his knee and throwing it towards the younger man as he turned away. “Roger, please.” John whispered, shuffling closer and placing his hand back on Roger’s knee. “You don’t have to get so angry, I just-”

“I’m not angry!” Roger snapped, pushing John back with considerable force, causing him to fall off the small log and onto the dirt beside it. Roger let out a loud huff and stood up, glancing back at John for a second, before stopping - his expression immediately shifting as he sighed loudly. “I’m- I’m sor-” Roger began, bending down to help John up. 

“Please, don’t.” John whispered, pushing himself off the ground with tears in his eyes. “You wonder why I don’t want anything to do with you…” John whispered, dusting himself off and beginning to walk away. Roger was quick to grab his hand and pull him back. 

“You don’t want anything to do with me?” Roger queried, holding John’s hand tightly. 

“I don’t know!” John snapped, trying to push Roger away with his free hand. It seemed he was getting worked up - far more worked up than what had just occurred would warrant, and Roger appeared to spring into action.

“Stop.” Roger whispered, pulling John in closer, wrapping his arms tightly around the younger boy. John tried for a few seconds to thrash at him, tears beginning to run down his face. “Stop, okay - just stop.” Roger continued, his lips just inches from John’s ear; making him shiver a little, but doing wonders to calm him back down. “I’m sorry - you’ve got to believe me, please.” He whispered, holding John close to his body. Roger waited like that until he heard John sigh softly and he slowly separated the two of them. “I don’t deserve you.” Roger said softly, looking John’s piercingly in the eyes. “I’ll probably never deserve you... “ He added. “But, I think… maybe, you make me a better person - I wanna be a better person.” Roger muttered, his eyes flicking to the ground for a moment. “I wanna be a better person for you, John.” John looked up him a little sadly, bottom lip between his teeth. 

“It’s not that straight-foward, Roger.” John whispered, looking at his feet as best he could still wrapped in Roger’s embrace. “You’ve made my life miserable for so long - and I can’t get over that. I can’t just forget that you’ve spent the last year going out of your way to hurt me.” John mumbled, face very close to Roger’s.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t mean t-” Roger began, only to be swiftly cut off. 

“I know you didn’t, but you still did it.” John said bluntly, trying to stop his lip from quivering as he stared at Roger. “Roger-” He continued. “I just can’t understand… why did you try so hard to hurt me? You liked me… and now I know it.” John mumbled, the two boys sharing a sad expression. “I never did anything to you… why was it always about making me hate myself?” John asked, and Roger let out a quivered sigh, obvious tears in his blue eyes. 

“Because…” Roger began, taking in a shaky breath. “We’re supposed to hate ourselves; for everything that’s wrong with us - we’re not supposed to be like this.” Roger whispered, starting to cry. John couldn’t help but get a bit emotional, this being the first time he’d had to listen to Roger talk about himself properly like that. “And… I can’t figure out why you don’t.” He continued. “I guess it makes me mad- no, not mad… jealous.” He whispered, looking away from John with tears running down his face. John sighed softly and pulled Roger closer to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“Roger - you hate yourself because all you’ve ever done is listen to what those people have to say about the person they don’t realise you are. Those things they say - they’re not about you… they’re about something they don’t understand.” John whispered carefully into Roger’s ear, the older boy relaxing into his chest. “I think if you chose to be who you really are, you’d be surprised where it gets you.” John whispered, pulling back to look Roger in the eyes. 

“I know where it’d get me… dead.” Roger mumbled, causing John to let out a gentle sigh. 

“Consider it.” John said softly, pulling back entirely so he and Roger were no longer touching; he turned around to begin heading back out of the jungle-like area. 

“Help me.” The small voice came from behind and John turned around quickly. “You make me better, John - help me be better.” Roger mumbled, having picked his book back up, he was now just staring at John, sad but hopeful. John was still for a moment before nodding. 

“Okay.” He whispered, taking a few steps toward Roger to place a careful hand on his back and began to lead him out of the area. “First step, is going back to class - I’m not having them call my mum.” John whispered, chuckling under his breath. Roger chuckled back, beginning to walk beside John in silence for a short while. They were almost back onto the road when John stopped and turned to Roger, the older man stopping also. 

“Rog - you’re not a bad person… and you’re gonna get through this.” John whispered, a firm hand on Roger’s back as he quickly leant in and pecked his lips before exiting onto the footpath before Roger could so much as kiss back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I only uploaded yesterday, but I thought I would put together a smaller chapter because I had a bunch of it written already. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! :)

Back at school, John and Roger well and truly separated; John didn’t really mind. He knew that if Roger was going to successfully assimilate into his old life whilst being ‘true to himself’, it was going to have to be so far removed from John that the pair couldn’t so much as glance at each other. That didn’t mean that when John went to his locker at lunch and watched as a note fell out, that he wasn’t a little bit excited. 

**_Come over tonight? You can stay for dinner and we can get to know each other? - Roger_ **

John didn’t _want_ to be excited, but he really couldn’t help himself. He could feel it within himself that he could come to like Roger - the short moments they’d positively spent together had made John happier than he had since moving schools. But, he had yet to see Roger be nice to him permanently, and there was something about that which still made him nervous - that made him wonder if this was all some giant masquerade to make John look like an idiot. He shook his head a little, trying to brush away the thoughts as he slipped the note into his pocket. 

“Where have you been, darling?” The voice was loud and rather close to John’s ear, making him jump a little. 

“Freddie! Don’t do that!” John snapped, but with a smile on his face. 

“Sorry - you’re too easy.” He grinned, leaning against the locker beside John’s as he continued to get his stuff out. “So, what was that little note you just snuck into your pocket?” He smirked, letting out a soft chuckle as John’s eyes widened. 

“Nothing.” John said quickly, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. “Let’s go to lunch.” John mumbled, beginning to walk away. 

“A not so secret admirer, perhaps?” Freddie continued, clearly not content to give up despite following John. 

“No!” John chuckled, his cheeks crimson red. “Just leave it, Freddie.” John muttered towards the floor, trying to hide his rosy cheeks. 

“I will not.” Freddie said exasperated. “My little boy has finally grown up and gotten himself a crush - I will not let this die.” Freddie said, almost signing triumphantly as they entered the cafeteria. John sighed softly, a small smile on his lips until Mike walked past, making a point of stepping closer in order to shove them both, both boys falling to the ground. John landed atop his bookback, groaning a little as he lifted himself to rub the definitely bruised area. 

“You right?” 

“Are you alright, Freddie?” 

The voices were simultaneous, but clearly separated by their speaker’s vocabularies. John looked up to see both Roger and Brian standing over the pair of them. Whilst John was flattered; he was particularly happy to see the way Brian placed his hand on Freddie’s knee, immediately reaching out for the older man’s hand. He was so busy watching, in fact, that he hadn’t noticed Roger’s own hand on his back. John looked at him, making a moment of eye contact before he looked away. 

“You don’t have to do this if you think it’s going to get you killed.” John whispered half joking about the grizzly fate Roger was certain would come to him just hours ago. 

“I know that.” Roger whispered. “I want to.” He grinned, giving the younger boy a wink. 

“What are you doing?” Mike muttered, standing between the two pairs, a confused - and somewhat disgusted - look on his face. Roger rolled his eyes, causing John to have to stop himself from audibly laughing, while Brian turned around, looking up at him. 

“Not being a prick - you should try it sometime.” Brian mumbled, pulling Freddie off the ground, a careful hand on the small of his back to make sure he was steady. Whilst John was happy to see Brian had also seemingly had a change of heart - he very much knew that Brian had always been rather averse to the violence and confrontation his friends subjected him to; perhaps John was really just excited to see him and Freddie. 

“What’s gotten into you, mate?” Mike questioned, looking at Brian with angry displeasure. “Freddie the fag getting your dick wet or something?” Mike chuckled, looking around to see only a few of the kids around them were laughing along with him. 

“Just leave it, Mike - it’s not worth it.” Roger mumbled, having just helped John to his feet. 

“It’s worth it if he’s gonna tell us he’s one of them. I’m not hanging around with some fairy.” Mike said loudly, able to look Brian in the eye due to his brutish height. 

“Brian’s not gay.” Roger said quickly, pulling Mike back a little as he himself made eye contact with Brian. “But… even if he was, it wouldn’t matter - he’s our friend.” Roger mumbled, preaching far less to Mike than he was to Brian. The two men - who hadn’t broken their eye contact - shared a quick smile, before Mike turned to Roger. 

“Be fucked - I don’t give a shit if he’s our friend. I’m not having him give me whatever diseases he’s probably got from that Paki.” Mike spat. John saw in that moment that Roger looked away, almost a little broken. It was as if Mike had confirmed all of Roger’s worries - that no amount of friendship was going to keep his mates from beating him to a pulp - Brian too. John let out a shaky sigh before he took a small and tentative step past Roger, towards Mike. 

“You know what?” He said loudly, unsure where the courage in his voice had come from. “You might very well the human equivalent of a rubbish bin, you absolute tosspot.” John spat, trying his best to look Mike in the eyes, despite the half-a-foot he had on him. Mike looked down at him, eyes wide; he heard as audible gasps sounded from students around them. 

“What th-” Mike began, only to be swiftly cut off. 

“Nope.” John snapped, holding a hand up to Mike. “I’m talking.” He said sharply. “I’m talking, and I’m telling you that you’re an ignorant ogre of a man who likely doesn’t have enough brain cells to comprehend that someone can be different than you and not deserve to be harassed.” John almost spat. “You’re still young - and I really hope one day you’ll come to realise just how awful you manage to make everyone feel by being such a repugnant, benighted wanker.” He continued, practically standing on his toes to look Mike square in the face. “But, if not…” John smirked, easing down a little - almost as if he was speaking casually. “Then I really hope whatever poor girl gets stuck with you leaves you for another woman.” He finished, arms crossing over his chest as inaudible whispers sounded around them.

“Oh my god.” Roger whispered, a wide smile on his face as he covered his mouth to try and hide how excited he was. The room was filled with excited chatter for a second, Mike silent and clearly seething. John looked at the older man, clearly pleased with himself. Just as John thought he’d finally beat Mike at his own game of taunting, he watched as the giant boy’s fist came colliding with his nose.


End file.
